


I'm Not an Asshole

by Unlikelyoptimist



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2014-06-06
Packaged: 2018-02-03 16:09:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1750634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unlikelyoptimist/pseuds/Unlikelyoptimist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky Barnes, in general, is not a rude person. In fact, he generally thinks of himself as charming. Dashing, even, on his better days. But seven o'clock in the morning doesn’t always have charming in its vocabulary. </p>
<p>Of course, because the world is cruel and unusual, the person he ends up being rude to ends up being the human equivalent of the sun. Obviously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Not an Asshole

At 6:57, right after Bucky's first pumpup song of the day starts (Defying Gravity), he feels a tap on his elbow, and looks up with raised eyebrows. Then down, to find a diminutive blond guy asking him a question. Which he might have heard, had he not been blasting Idina Menzel into both eardrums at maximum volume. 

God. He looks  _chipper,_ and Bucky just can’t do it. 

He summons every ounce of rage at the indignity of Tuesday mornings, glares, and stabs a pointed finger at his earphones. Instantly apologetic, the man pulls his hand back and mouths ‘sorry’ very obviously before turning around. 

Two minutes later, he reluctantly tugs the earphones out, letting them hang around his neck as he orders a white mocha with a shot of espresso. 

"That’s 4.50, so your change is 1.50." 

Bucky blinked, staring at the hand holding the cash dumbly. 

"I haven’t even paid yet." This is the kind of thing he might have caught onto more quickly, at three in the afternoon. 

"The person in front of you gave me six dollars to put towards your order. He’d like you to have a nice day," the barista said cheerfully. "Name for the order?" 

His head whipped to find the back of blondie’s head as he stood at the counter, waiting for his coffee. He reached out and accepted the change. “Bucky.” 

Yep. Bucky Barnes, the asshole. 

Coins and dollar bill still clutched in his hand, he stalked over to the counter just as the guy got his order. “Hey, you.” He turned, and he was still wearing a smile. Where the hell was he getting all those smiles? Maybe he didn’t know it was Tuesday morning; maybe no one had told him yet. 

"Jesus, you didn’t have to pay for my coffee just because you poked me in line." 

Laughing, he shook his head. “I was tapping you on the arm to ask what your order was. Since you didn’t want to be bothered, I figured I’d just give her six bucks and call it a day.” Eyeing the change, he added, “You can keep that. If you’re not gonna use it, stick it in the tip jar.” 

"Caramel latte." Happy coffee guy picked up the cup and grabbed a napkin with his other hand. As Bucky stood, stunned into silence, he glimpsed a name through slender fingers, scribbled in sharpie. ‘Steve.’ 

"But I was a complete asshole," he finally managed, still too shocked to scramble for his filter. 

"Well, I figured that meant I knew the coffee would be going towards a good cause," Steve said wryly, wiping the rim of his cup with a napkin before crumpling it up in his palm. "Have a nice day!" 

And with that, Bucky watched the back of Steve’s head on his way out of the shop, almost missing his coffee order and thoroughly irritating the barista. 

-

At 6:50 on Wednesday morning, he’s listening to Piano Man by Billy Joel, tapping his foot impatiently. He’d gotten up ten minutes early, and he was firmly determined to catch Steve before he got in line. When he finally caught sight of the neatly coifed blond hair, he edged his way into line just in time, trying to ignore the slight smile on Steve’s face. He said nothing. 

"White mocha, and a…a caramel latte," he said, handing her a ten dollar bill. Behind him, the smile got wider. Bucky turned. "Right? Caramel latte?" Steve nodded as they moved towards the counter to wait. 

"Very attentive. I’m surprised you were paying such close attention, so early in the morning." His smile had a knowing edge now, and Bucky cracked one of his own, shaking his head. 

"Yeah. Yeah, uh…sorry about that. I’m not an asshole after seven, I promise." 

Steve rummaged in his bag for a moment as their coffees slid onto the counter, respective names scrawled on each. Instead of his own, Steve picked up Bucky’s, uncapping a felt tipped pen with his teeth. 

"Hey, that’s-" He stopped short as he caught sight of the first three numbers, swallowing as Steve handed it back to him. 

"Nice to meet you, Bucky." One more smile for the road, and this time Steve had the decency to have a little pink in his cheeks on the way out the door. 


End file.
